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I’m no scientist but this stuff is magical. Like those stars you can put on your ceiling.
Sep 22, 2024
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Don’t care how often I see it, I love anything that looks normal during the day but glows at night.
(Like these stickers I made, specifically for that purpose.)
Feb 13, 2024
Feb 13, 2024
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go see it
May 22, 2024
Top Recs from @glitterpoprocks
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The light fixture, modern,
brightens the old cracks in our ceiling.
Popcorn walls, chipped , lead paint.
Our sink spits out our upstairs neighbor’s breakfast. Sometimes eggs but usually pancake mix.
Their water drips down on us through those
same cracks while we shower.
We have beets in the fridge from
far too long ago.
The stains look like blood and we’re only 20
with a stained fridge.
I could clean up the beets and we could have new beets.
We feed their cat that visits us while we hang
our sheets to dry.
We have ugly pillows on a nice couch.
It used to be my moms.
We have a wood table with rings, drawings
and signatures from when we were 5 -
because we don’t have coasters yet.
Maybe we’ll make a home here -
but I go outside instead, because
things are better out here
and there are no cracks above me.
Sep 17, 2024
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After Metastasis by Ja’net Danielo
She can’t remember and maybe that is why I keep rearranging my living room, thinking about where the floor lamp should go.
She can’t remember and this
is what I tell myself when I am frightened into thinking that I am forgetting what a floor lamp is.
Yesterday night I overheard a woman telling a boy to adopt a bunny and pretend to be one so that the bunny thinks he is also a bunny
and befriends him and makes him one of their own like the wild ones do with each other in the bushes
of thirteenth street. I want to know, when do bunnies stop being rabbits?
Across the street from the home my grandmother was put in, the night owl of eateries, the pine cone open until forever
and ever where I eat chicken dumpling alphabet soup
every weekend because my grandma doesn’t know how to make
it anymore. She can’t remember and the cold noodles in the warm broth repel each other like oil and water
and while I wait for my soup to settle I draw a picture of what the noodle-alphabet spells out today and think about
what it’s going to spell out inside my stomach later and I wonder if this is what my grandma meant when said that you must not add your noodles in too late before our 67th introduction
where she asks me my name again and we sit in each others company
talking about the weather over and over again.
Pine Cone is a truck stop and Rabbits are the same thing
as bunnies and my alphabet soup says that my floor lamp should probably go in the corner.
Sep 17, 2024